


Two Fathers

by orphan_account



Category: The West Wing
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-06-22
Updated: 2006-06-22
Packaged: 2019-05-15 14:07:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14791952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: A day on the Bartlet For America campaign.  But, "So what is it with you and Leo?"





	Two Fathers

**Author's Note:**

> A copy of this work was once archived at National Library, a part of the [ West Wing Fanfiction Central](https://fanlore.org/wiki/West_Wing_Fanfiction_Central), a West Wing fanfiction archive. More information about the Open Doors approved archive move can be found in the [announcement post](http://archiveofourown.org/admin_posts/8325).

  
Author's notes: Right. So this was a Leo McGarry Ficathon fic. Requirements were "for a political/current affairs issue to be at work there. Also, Toby, if you can work him in," no post-Sorkin, no Will Bailey, at least 750 words, and for Josh-friendship. I hope it's in the parameters of the ficathon itself 'cause I don't know for sure (It's not strictly Leo/Josh). It was written for Kangeiko. I hope you enjoy it!  
NOTE: This takes place during the first Bartlet campaign. It's in third-person, but it changes main characters from time to time. And why did I tell you that? You can figure it out. As usual, super-duper thanks to awesome-beta Caz, who beta-ed this on such short notice, it's not even funny. Big round of applause for Caz!  


* * *

**Disclaimer:** I am not making a profit from this. All characters belong to Aaron Sorkin, John Wells, NBC, etc., etc. The White House belongs to George W. Bush (to my eternal chagrin).

\- - - - - - - - - -

“So what is it with you and Leo?”

Josh looked up from marking in the margins of whatever he was reading and paused, his brow wrinkling. “Huh?”

“You and Leo.”

“What about it?”

“You have this… thing that I don’t know about and I need to know if I’m going to be working for either one of you.”

“Toby-”

“This is not one of the things we argue about. This is one of the things you tell me and then we move on.”

Josh stopped again, rubbed his hand over his face. “I can’t.”

“Is it a thing that you don’t talk about?”

Josh closed his eyes in an attempt to ward off a memory poking at him insistently, and smiled a little, sadly. “I’m not a writer. I don’t define things for a living.”

Toby decided to ignore the simplified description of what he did. “What can be so hard to define?”

“What do you call a father that’s not your father but is more than a father?” Josh would have expected anyone else to try to find something to say, but Toby knew too much. Toby, whose life had been built from words, knew when no words at all was best, because words had a tendency to sound empty.

Toby, for his part, could see Josh had something more to say, and so he waited. He saw Josh open his mouth to say it – or try – but something made him stop.

Josh had lost the battle against the memory and let it wash over him, hoping it would be quick. But nothing about Leo ever was.

_“Hey kid.”_

_“Hey.” The boy’s voice was hoarse, tired. Old._

_“Mind if I sit?” The only response was the quick shake of a head, but the man would take that right now._

_They sat in silence for a long while on the back stoop, but the cold seeping up through the cold concrete of the steps failed to rouse either of the men from their thoughts – because both were men, but one had become one far too quickly._

_“Must be hard,” the older one remarked eventually._

_“Mr. McGarry-”_

_“Leo. I’m not your girlfriend’s father.”_

_The remark failed to ignite even the hint of a smile that had once been full and easy. “I don’t want to talk about it,” the boy continued stubbornly, refusing to let the subject or the mood of the conversation change, because although the smile had faded, the tenacity had only become stronger._

_“You will eventually.” Leo paused, considered his words. “Or maybe you won’t. But you should. And when someone tries to make you, I hope you get angry. I hope you scream and throw things and then spill your guts to them. Because anything is better than feeling numb, than feeling nothing. And when you’re done saying everything you need to say, I hope you apologize and break down in tears and let them hold you. I hope you start to heal.”_

_“Men don’t cry,” and the soft, hoarse voice – not even a whisper – cracked._

_The older man stood, dusted off the seat of his pants. “If you want to talk about it, Josh,” he whispered, not willing to break the silence of the boy’s words, “I hope you come to me.”_

_And he walked away. He didn’t turn, didn’t see the tears running down the boy’s face._

“Josh?”

“I was seven when Joanie died.”

Toby didn’t dare to breathe, didn’t dare to probe the emptiness that he sensed within his friend. “Joanie?” he asked quietly.

“My sister.”

And Toby felt his heart break. “Your sister died.”

“Yeah. It was… a fire. And I… look, it’s not important.”

“I would beg to differ.”

“It’s not what we’re talking about.”

“No. No, it’s not. But maybe it should be.”

Josh smiled a tiny smile that held so much sadness that Toby wanted to clasp him on the shoulder, give him a connection to another human. It was as close as he was comfortable to coming to comforting Josh the way Toby’s older brother had comforted him – holding him close, late at night when the thunder erased the line between toughness and fear. “It’s a story for another night. For another time.”

Toby nodded. “Okay.”

“I loved my father, and he loved me and I knew that. I always talked to him about my day and the Mets and what Mom was cooking for dinner and what was he doing at work and could I have just one more bedtime story? My father was my father, but he was also Joanie’s father and what was I supposed to do? I couldn’t talk to him anymore because there was an expression in his eyes every time he looked at me that I was too young to understand. And my mother walked around the house like… some sort of, of – soulless… wraith, and she seemed so frail and so white that I thought she would break if I touched her. So I couldn’t talk to her. And it’s not something to say to your friends when you’re seven, especially when it feels like you just turned forty-seven and those friends are still trading baseball cards.”

“And Leo…?”

“Was there.” Josh smiled again, that sad, sad, small smile. “He was just… there. All the time.”

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Okay.” And then, because there was nothing else to say – “I’m sorry.”

“Yeah,” Josh said. “Me too.”

\- - - - - - - - - -

Leo’s head was pounding. His back was sending spasms of pain into his sides and his brain felt like mush. Despite the fact that he had left earlier than both Josh and Toby the night before, he had only gotten two hours of sleep. Resolving _never_ to bring work home again – a vow he knew he had no chance of keeping – he glanced at the clock.

6:30 AM.

Great.

“Margaret!”

Her head popped around the door in that way it had of doing so, as if it was bouncing from the other side of the room through the crack between his door and his doorframe. “What can I do for you?”

He groaned at her peppiness and rubbed his head. Opening his mouth to speak, he was pleasantly surprised when she beat him to it.

“Tylenol,” she said, as if repeating an order. “Got it. Be right back.”

_Well,_ thought Leo, _I’m definitely keeping her when... for as long as I can._ He looked back at the polling results he had been reading and tried to concentrate. He really did. But somehow, he felt immeasurable relief when a knock at the door interrupted him. Margaret, he knew, would have knocked once and come in. Jed would have skipped the knocking bit. So, it must be someone he would rather talk to right now. Although he wouldn’t complain if it was Margaret with the Tylenol. “Come in!”

Josh poked his head in hesitantly and looked from side to side. Leo rolled his eyes. “When I said, ‘Come in,’ I meant to come in. As in, all of you,” he added testily when Josh just stared at him with his head cocked to the side and his eyebrows scrunched up.

“Oh. Oh right.” The younger man walked in, leaving the door open behind him, and stood in the middle of the small room, fidgeting, for a moment.

Leo was quickly losing patience. His head hurt and his eyes hurt and his back hurt and it was 6:30 in the morning and dammit he wanted to go home already. “Well?”

“What?”

Leo sighed and looked down, shaking his head in exasperation. “Did you _need_ something?”

“Uh, yeah.” Josh paused. “Or, well, it’s just this thing, really-”

Giving up, Leo ripped off his reading glasses and threw them down on the desk in frustration. “For the love of God, Josh, would you just spit it out already and then leave me alone?”

Josh’s eyebrows flew up, but he was saved from answering by the appearance of Margaret at the door. Knocking once, she walked in and handed Leo two pills and a bottle of water. “Thanks,” he said.

She nodded, then turned to glare at Josh. “I’ll be right outside,” and somehow she managed to direct it at Leo while still glowering at Josh. Swallowing, Josh took a step back raising his hand in front of him.

“Sorry, sorry. You weren’t there, so I just… knocked...” he trailed off.

“Hmph,” she said, and stormed out, shutting the door firmly on her way.

Leo tried desperately to hide the smile that Josh always somehow managed to bring to his face. “What was it you wanted?” he asked gruffly.

Josh had now had time to gather his thoughts together and his voice was surer. “Oh, that,” he said, bouncing on the balls of his feet. He was grinning like an excited toddler. He hadn’t changed much since he _was_ one, Leo thought.

_“Whoa. Careful there, kid.” The man set the grinning child back on his feet._

_The boy shook his head of soft curls and took a few more steps, reaching out to get his balance-_

“Can I have an assistant?” The boy, grown up, pulled him out of the memory.

Leo looked at him in amazement. “You want someone like Margaret?”

“Yeah.” Josh paused, looking at Leo in puzzlement as the older man lost the war with the smile. “What?”

“You were just practically on your knees begging for her not to hurt you.”

“I was not!”

“You know, a little fear might not be a bad thing.”

“I am _not_ afraid of Margaret!” Josh squeaked. Realizing he had spoken a little too loudly, he forgot himself, immediately shooting a terrified glance at the door. “Do you think she heard me?” he whispered to Leo.

“Doubt it,” Leo lied blandly.

“Good.”

“So. Where are you going to get an assistant?”

“I already have one.”

“You... what? How did this happen?” As Josh opened his mouth, Leo shook his head and waved his hand. “You know what? I don’t want to know. You already hired an assistant? And _then_ you came to ask me if you could?”

“Yeah, basically,” said Josh in his sounds-about-right voice.

“So the point of you _asking_ me was just a courtesy to tell me you already had one.”

“Uh, yeah.” This time it was the isn’t-it-obvious? voice. Leo realized that Josh didn’t see anything wrong with the situation. What bothered Leo more, though, was that he didn’t either. After all, it was Josh. Leo realized he was just making a big deal out of it for show.

“We can’t afford to pay her.”

“I’ve got it covered.”

“Or hotel rooms.”

“She can share with me.”

“Is that appropriate?”

“Sure. Why not?”

Leo shook his head again and smiled a little at Josh’s eagerness. “I hope she can kick your ass.”

“Oh, you bet she can.”

“Alright then.”

“Okay.” But Josh didn’t move.

“Is there something else?” Josh put on his ‘Do I _have_ to?’ face. “Josh?” Leo prompted.

“It’s just... _bothering_ me.”

“Ah, God, Josh. We talked about this yesterday. It’s nothing! They got a donation.”

“It’s got to be a pretty big donation. But I looked over their finance disclosures and there was nothing there.”

“So it’s recent.”

“Leo, all the Republican candidates are spending thousands of dollars on ad buys and campaign events. No one spends that much money this early in the game. No one. They’re courting national votes before they even get to the convention! All but one of them is wasting their money. You know just as well as I do that that means they’ve got a ridiculous amount of it stuffed away for later, and that they’re all getting it from the same place – the Republican National Committee.”

Leo pulled off his glasses in frustration. “What do you want me to do, Josh? What do you want me to say? There’s nothing I can do to fix this. It’s too recent to be in the disclosures. That’s it.”

Josh shook his head. “No. No, it’s not. We both know we’d have heard something about that big a donation – even if it was from more than one source.”

Leo sighed, but didn’t deny it. “Josh. There’s nothing I can do.”

Josh paused as if for a breath, but then his shoulders slumped and his mouth quirked sideways. “Yeah. I know,” he sighed. “Okay then. I’ll just-” he pointed to the door.

“Yeah.”

Leo watched as Josh opened the door and left. As he approached Margaret’s desk, the redhead looked up.

“Boo!” she said.

Everyone on the floor burst out laughing.

Somehow, Josh was able to send the same glare at everybody simultaneously. “Funny,” he snarled, and stomped into his office.

\- - - - - - - - - -

Leo heard them before he saw them.

“You can’t _seriously_ be considering putting that in the speech, Toby.”

“I’m damn well more than considering it.”

“Come on! You know as well as I do that it’s not going to fly with them! It’s for exactly everything they’re not! We have an audience here. We’re not throwing around policy like we’re already in the White House. We need their _votes_ to do that, first!”

“Sam, this needs to be said, so we’re going to say it.”

“What the hell are you two talking about?” Leo’s voice stopped them both. There was a blessed moment of silence before they both started talking at the same time.

“He has to tell the truth, Leo – it’s how we got this far and if we-”

“He wants to put it _in the speech!_ We’re courting votes from these people, not trying to-”

“Enough!” Leo boomed out and as the two of them immediately shut up, he thought tiredly that he was getting pretty good at that. He rubbed his hand over the top of his head and wondered why Tylenol was so crappy. “Only _one_ at a time, please?”

Toby spoke up. “For the speech to the insurance groups on Sunday, we have to talk about taxes.”

“On the companies?”

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

“Well, it doesn’t have to be taxes, but if we win, we’re going to have to find a way to get some money from them. It won’t inconvenience them. Some of these companies and conglomerates are huge, Leo. They’re just huge.”

“No, I know. I meant, why tax them?”

“To back up people’s life insurance if the companies tank.”

“I thought you just said they were huge.”

“I did, which is why this needs to happen. There are millions of people who’ve trusted these companies, and they lose everything if they go under. Stuff happens.”

“Yeah.” Leo paused. “And you want to put it in the speech to the insurance groups?”

“Yeah.”

“Isn’t that a little bit suicidal?”

“Oh, more than a little bit.”

“We need their votes, Toby.”

“No, we don’t. Not if we get a hundred more votes from average Americans for every one we lose from these guys.”

Leo leaned back and rubbed his eyes. “We’re shooting ourselves in the foot.”

Toby didn’t say anything for a moment. “It’s the right thing to do.”

Leo nodded. “Sam?”

Sam shrugged. “You just argued my side for me.”

Leo sighed and looked back at Toby. “I’ll talk it over with him.”

Toby nodded. “Okay. Thanks.”

“Yeah.” He waved his hand at the door and Sam followed Toby from the room. Then, “Wait!” Leo called, and they both dutifully came trooping back, poking their heads into his office. “We’re having a staff meeting at 7:30. It’s on your schedules.”

“Yeah…?” asked Sam.

“It’s 7:20. You might as well stick around. Margaret!”

Her head appeared between Toby and Sam’s. “Yes?”

“Get Josh and C.J., would you please?”

“Sure,” and she was off.

There was an uncomfortable silence as Toby and Sam walked in and stood around, waiting. _We’re going to have to get everyone to like each other,_ Leo thought. _When did the little things get to be everything?_

Thirty seconds later, C.J. was at his door. “Where’s Josh?” he asked as she walked in to stand near Toby.

“Coming, I assume.” He wondered how her voice was always like unruffled satin. He figured that it must be what made her good at what she did.

“Coming,” he repeated. “He’s always coming. Just never here.”

But as he finished speaking, he saw Josh walking toward them in that ridiculously fast, haphazard way he had that no one could figure out. Except that someone had, because there was a very young, very blonde woman walking next to him, looking aggravated. They stopped just out of earshot and conversed heatedly for a few seconds, before she rolled her eyes, sighed exasperatedly, and shoved a blue folder at Josh before walking away.

Josh watched her retreating form for another second or so, then finally sauntered over to Leo’s office. “Hey,” he said to the room at large.

“Josh. Nice of you to join us.”

He at least had the decency to look apologetic. “Sorry.” He sounded apologetic, too.

“Who was that?” asked Sam.

“Who was who?”

“That woman with you.”

“Oh, her,” said Josh. “That was Donna.”

“Donna?”

“My new assistant.”

Leo found himself pulled from the realm of not really caring. “ _That_ was your new assistant?”

“Yeah...” said Josh, in that way he had that blatantly told whoever he was talking to that he was wondering what he had done wrong.

Sam said what Leo was thinking. “No wonder you wanted to keep her so badly.”

The room dissolved into snorts and chuckles as everyone tried to hide their amusement by covering their mouth or looking at the floor. Josh managed to gather his dignity and sound... indignant. “Hey! She happens to be very good at what she does!”

“She’d better be,” chuckled C.J. “She’s got the toughest challenge of her life with you.”

“Thanks, C.J. I appreciate that. Really, I do.” Leo figured that Josh was about four seconds away from sticking out his tongue at her.

“Okay, okay,” he said, calming them down. “That’s enough. Let’s get this started. Anyone seeing anything that could be a problem?” As Josh opened his mouth, Leo thought it prudent to add, “Not you.” Josh seemed to have to physically restrain himself from doing something juvenile, like making a face. “Anyone else?”

“Yeah.” C.J. raised her hand. “I have a thing.”

“A thing?”

“Well, yeah.”

“Okay.”

“You know the Governor’s education policy announcement?”

“Yeah. What about it?”

“Well, we have it set for Tuesday. But Hoynes is doing a big rally on Tuesday, and it’s going to get completely drowned out by that.”

“Josh?”

“Yeah.” He shifted and cleared his throat. “Uh, I’ll get into it. I don’t have much hope though.”

“You know someone you can talk to?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay. Anything else?” There was silence for a long moment. Then Toby decided to speak up.

“Sam uses punctuation like he’s an eight-grader.”

Sam glared at him. “Yeah? Well, Toby thinks that the more words we use, the better the speech will sound.”

Josh smirked, C.J. grinned, and Leo rolled his eyes. “For the love of God, would you two grow up? You’re worse than Josh and Mallory.” Josh’s smirk suddenly slid off into mock offense. “You have to work with each other. Learn to like it, or learn to deal with it.”

“Fine,” said Sam with all the attitude of a sixteen-year-old.

“Okay,” said Leo. “That’s it. Everyone out of my office. Right now.”

There were murmurs of “Thanks, Leo,” as they left and shut the door behind them, and then there was silence. He sighed and drank some water, loosening his shoulders and leaning back in his seat. The room was dark and cool. He closed his eyes, just for a minute...

The door opened and Sam poked his head back in. “One more thing-”

“Out!” Leo roared, pointing outside, and Sam leaped out like his pants were on fire.

\- - - - - - - - - -

“I talked to Danny Concannon.”

“Who?”

“He’s a reporter. For the Post. He’s covering our campaign.”

“Why ours? Why not Hoynes’?”

“He asked to be assigned to ours.”

“God, why?”

Josh shrugged. “Maybe he thinks we’ll win.”

Leo raised his eyebrows. “Okay, but... anyway, you were saying?”

“I talked to him.”

“About what?”

“The rally thing.”

“On Tuesday?”

“Yeah.”

“What’d he say?”

“That he didn’t have much hope either.”

“Why not?”

“Well, we’re not going to get Hoynes to change the date, and the press is going to cover him without a doubt, ‘cause we don’t get much coverage to begin with, so...”

“The only chance we have is to change our date,” Leo finished.

“Yeah.”

“The press isn’t going to spin that like we’re catering to Hoynes’ schedule?”

Josh smiled crookedly. “Like I said, we don’t get much coverage.”

“Okay.” And then, wanting to apologize a little for his continued ribbing of the younger man in front of the others, Leo paused for words as-

_\- sound filtered through the open door to the kitchen._

_“Leo!” he heard Noah call. “Get in here! You’re missing the party!”_

_“Nah, I’m good,” Leo called back. “I’ll stay in here for a bit with the kid.”_

_He heard Noah laugh. “He’s not your kid.”_

_“No, but I got one on the way, so I haveta see how they work.”_

_Another laugh. “Suit yourself.”_

_But it was more than seeing how they worked. He was in awe of the thing in front of him, simple yet so complex, the thing that tottered precariously toward the other side of the room – and then fell over again._

_Leo chuckled, and it sounded like rich chocolate and hazelnuts. “Watch it there, kid.” He set the boy back on his feet, ruffling his hair as he heard yet another call of-_

“Leo?” 

His head snapped up. “Yeah?”

“Did you...”

Leo understood. “Nah. Never mind. Go on. Wait - what’re you doing?”

“I promised Sam I’d help him with the speech.”

“God help us.” Josh grinned, and Leo waved his hand at the door. “Go.”

“Thanks, boss.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

\- - - - - - - - - -

“So when did you get an assistant?”

“Huh?”

“Your assistant,” Sam explained patiently to Josh, who was still peering down at a sheaf of papers in his hand. “When did you hire her?”

“Oh – I didn’t.”

“Wait. You didn’t _hire_ her?”

“No.”

“So how is she working for you?”

Josh still hadn’t looked up, and Sam saw him cross something out from the middle of the page. “She kinda... hired herself.”

“And you were just a pushover?”

Josh suddenly whipped his head up. “Don’t tell anyone, ‘kay?”

“Yeah, of course,” Sam said, not really interested. “So when did you _not_ hire her?”

“Yesterday.”

Sam nodded. “You paying her out of your own pocket?”

Josh had already looked back down, returning his attention to the Governor’s upcoming speech. “Yeah. She offered to pay her own way, but I don’t really think she can afford it.”

“What gives you that idea?”

Josh raised his eyebrows but still didn’t look up. “She said she’d sell her car and sleep on the floor.”

“Well,” said Sam. “That’s always a good indication. Hey, what are you doing with section 22?” he asked as he saw Josh draw a huge X through half the page.

“We don’t need it. It’s repeated in parts in section 12, 16, and 31.”

“It’s different.”

“That’s your reason?”

“Well-” but he was interrupted by a knock at the door, followed immediately by Josh’s new assistant. _Donna,_ Sam reminded himself.

“Josh, have you eaten?”

“Wha...?” Josh looked up immediately from the papers in his hand and looked for all the world like a guilty schoolboy, even though Sam couldn’t remember him doing something wrong. Then again, with Josh, you never knew.

“Have you eaten?” Donna repeated. “It’s 9:30 already. Have you had any breakfast? And coffee doesn’t count,” she added as Josh started to speak.

Josh changed answers immediately. “Um... yes?”

“I don’t believe you. I’m getting you a bagel.”

“Ah-kay.” Josh grinned and Sam figured he was way too happy to oblige. Josh usually complained that he hated breakfast. “Sam, you want anything?”

“Nah. I ate when I woke up, first thing this morning.”

Josh looked disgusted. “Of course you did.”

Donna, meanwhile, looked vindicated. “See?” she asked. “Sam knows what’s right. Maybe I should work for him. That way, if you have a heart attack, I won’t be out of a job.”

“Heh. Funny!” Josh yelled at her retreating back. Then, even though Sam was looking away and could only see Josh out of the corner of his eye, he could swear that Josh stuck his tongue out. He shook his head.

“So, about section 22...”

\- - - - - - - - - -

“Margaret!”

Her head appeared in the doorway, followed by the remainder of her body. “Yes?”

“What do I have?”

“Nothing.”

“What?”

“You have nothing.”

“No, I know for sure I have something.”

“You don’t have anything.”

“Margaret, I drew up my schedule for today all by myself, and it was packed.”

“Yeah. I moved some meetings to tomorrow.”

“Why would you do that?”

“Because you’re going to work yourself to death. You’re not young anymore.”

“Well, thank you for reminding me.”

“Really, Leo. We haven’t been elected yet. You can take a couple breaks – or you’ll burn out before we _do_ get elected. Go get a coffee or something.” She didn’t wait for a response, pulling the door shut behind her.

Leo looked the now-closed door. “This is why I make my own schedules!” he yelled.

\- - - - - - - - - -

“There should be a comma there.”

“There should not be a comma there.”

“Yes, there should be.”

“It’s optional.”

“There’s no such thing as ‘optional’ in grammar.”

“Yes, there is. And this is optional.”

“No, it’s _not_! Put the goddamn comma in, Sam!”

“Toby, this is my section of the speech, and I can damn well do what I want with it!”

“Okay. That’s it.” Toby straightened up from where he was leaning, behind Sam’s chair, taking the top sheet of the speech with him, and started heading towards the door. “I’m going to Leo.”

“I’m impressed with how much that sounded like, ‘I’m telling the teacher.’ And you called _me_ an eighth-grader.”

He had to yell the last part of the comment, because Toby was already out the door. Sam quickly stood up and jogged to catch up.

Toby looked at him sideways. “You here to tell him I’m wrong?”

“You are wrong.” Sam said as they arrived at Leo’s office.

Toby completely ignored Margaret, who was trying to say something, and blasted through the door to Leo’s office. Leo looked up, shocked, as he heard what sounded like an elephant crashing through his door. Luckily, he wasn’t having a meeting with someone, or they would have lost that person’s support, for sure.

However, he didn’t have much time to contemplate, as Toby immediately said, “I can’t work with this man.”

Leo rolled his eyes. “What is it _now_?”

Toby handed him the page of the speech he was holding. “Paragraph three. Sam insists there _shouldn’t_ be a comma in line five, which is contrary to every grammatical rule ever written.”

“The comma is optional,” Sam said stubbornly.

Incredulously, Leo looked between the two of them. “It’s a _speech,_ ” he said. “He says it _out loud_. No one can tell if there’s a comma there or not.”

Toby and Sam looked at their feet and shifted their weight uncomfortably.

Leo sighed. “Look, if you want to bring me conclusive proof that you hate each other, find something more than a comma, please.” He pointed at the door. “Go.”

They went.

\- - - - - - - - - -

“So, Sam asked you to help him with his part of the speech.”

Josh looked up from a pile of papers at him. “So did you,” he pointed out. “And Sam’s known me for longer.”

“But I know what the hell I’m talking about. I just want your input on the policy sections.”

“Sam knows what he’s talking about!”

“Sam uses imagery and metaphors and flowery language. If it was up to him, all political speeches would be given in sonnet form.”

“He’s a great writer! He just needs to tighten up a little. He complements you very well, I think.”

“Want to know what I think?”

“No.”

Toby ignored him. “I think that I complemented myself even better. Before.”

Leo gave up on reading the report in his hand and glared incredulously at the two men sitting in front of his desk. “I don’t believe you two. Would you _shut up_ and do your work, _please_?” He didn’t wait for a response. “No. You know what? We’re going to end this right now. Toby, you were all alone ‘before,’ so it didn’t really matter how damned well you complemented _yourself_ , because you can’t do everything on a Presidential campaign. Josh, ignore what he said about Sam. He’s just trying to see how much Sam can take. Once he realizes he can hold his own, he’ll accept that he’s not going anywhere.”

Toby shifted in his seat. “You do realize I’m right here?”

Leo was now the one who ignored Toby. “In fact, he’s already realizing it. That’s why he’s stepped it up.”

“What are you, my psychologist?” growled Toby.

The situation was miraculously saved from getting worse by the opening of the door and the arrival of what seemed like a mile of blonde hair in the office. The head beneath the hair looked around at the three tense men in their chairs.

“Josh, were you fighting?”

“No?” he tried.

“You better not have been.”

Josh seemed to have recovered from his surprise and twisted around in his seat to look at the door. “How did you get in? I thought Margaret was out there and throwing everyone out.”

“She let me in. She knows that I have to keep you in line.”

“Oh, great,” Leo found himself saying. “Now they’ve formed a tag team.”

Donna thrust a styrofoam container at Josh. “I brought you lunch.”

“Lunch?”

“Yes, Joshua.”

“I just had breakfast, like, half an hour ago!”

“It’s what normal people eat at twelve-thirty. Not that I’m assuming you’re normal.”

“You couldn’t wait until I was out of my meeting?” Josh asked, taking the container anyway. He opened it and groaned. “ _Salad_? Why’d you have to get me _salad_?”

“Because it’s good for you. Stop whining. I bet Sam eats it.”

“Sam also eats breakfast.”

“So did you, this morning.”

“Only because you practically forced it on me! And Sam also uses flowery language.”

“Well, now I have no godly idea what you’re talking about.”

“That’s cause I got a 760 verbal on my SATs,” Josh smirked.

“Are you trying to impress me? Because it’s not working.” As Josh opened his mouth, Donna shook her head. “Eat.” She shoved a folder at him. “You have a meeting with Conroy from the D-triple-C in half an hour.” And without waiting for him to acknowledge it, she left.

Leo rubbed the back of his neck, which was aching. Only then did he realize that he had been following the conversation back and forth like a tennis match. “From what Sam said, you were more than happy to eat breakfast this morning. What happened between then and now?”

“It’s _salad_ , Leo. Besides, if Toby gets to be mean to Sam, then I don’t have to try to be especially nice to Donna. If she’s going to work for me, I have to see if I can handle having her around.”

Toby grinned a little. “From what I saw, it looks like she’s the one handling you.”

Leo stopped Josh from saying anything by speaking first. “Toby’s learning to like Sam, Josh. So that means that you already like Donna. I can see that, too. Besides, she’s right. It _is_ good for you. And at least you were right about one thing.”

“What?”

“She sure as hell can kick your ass.”

\- - - - - - - - - -

“You want anything?” C.J. asked as Josh joined her in Leo’s office.

Josh was looking at her strangely as she contentedly crunched on a salad housed in a styrofoam container while not removing her attention from the T.V screen. “I just ate,” he said.

“So?” Her back was to the rest of the room, and she still hadn’t turned around.

“How often do people eat, anyway?”

She turned her head, twisting around into an impossible position to look at him. “You know what you are?”

“Highly intelligent and devastatingly handsome?”

She ran right over him. “Freakish. That’s what you are. You’re freakish.” And she turned back to the television.

“Thank you,” Josh said. “I’ll keep that in mind.” He looked over to where Leo was sitting, leaning back in his chair. “Did you need me?”

“No.”

Josh cocked his head and did something far too flexible with his eyebrows. “Then... why am I here?”

“Because you’re not anywhere else.”

Josh smirked. “Thank you, Leo, for telling me how matter occupies space in this dimension, but what I was really asking was-”

Leo rolled his eyes. “Because Sam told me you weren’t busy. Better?”

“Very much so. Did you want me to do something?”

“You know, Josh, we’re running a Presidential campaign. Generally, there _are_ , in fact, things that need to be done.”

“Such as...?”

Leo stopped for a moment. “Well, so I can’t think of anything _right now_ , but-”

“Ah ha!”

Leo ignored him. “But the point still stands. I mean, come on, Josh. This isn’t a cushy Congressional no-job job-”

“A ‘no-job job’?” Josh opened his mouth to continue, but the budding confrontation was rudely interrupted by the arrival at the door of two loud voices.

“No, Sam, you need to listen to me. You’re a loose canon.”

Sam’s voice was almost impossibly high, which was a sure sign that he was having some difficulty controlling his anger. “ _I_ need to listen to _you_? Listen to _me_ , you jumped-up, arrogant, confrontational, elitist, cynical, son-of-a-”

_Okay,_ Josh thought. _So he’s having a_ lot _of difficulty controlling his anger._

“ _Enough_!” yelled Leo, and Toby and Sam fell silent. “It’s enough. I’m tired of hearing you two yap on and on and on like my mother-in-law.”

“We were just having a philosophical disagreement, Leo,” said Toby.

“We came to eat our lunch,” Sam added, holding up a styrofoam container identical to C.J.’s.

“Good thing too,” said C.J. “It was getting unusually cool in here, for June.”

Sam seemed to notice Josh for the first time. “Hey.”

“Hey.”

“I was wondering – did you see the report on the thing?”

“Yeah, I’ve sent a memo to your office. You know that the Senate vote on 462 is coming up next week, and-”

Toby piped up. “Yeah, I have a meeting with Harris. Also, Grober from the DNC.”

C.J. sat up and snapped her fingers, leaning over the back of her chair and twisting around, trying to swallow her salad quickly but ending up just speaking with her mouth full. “That reminds me. I wanted a moment with Thruman’s press office.”

“I can set that up,” said Sam. “I have a meeting with one of his aides later in the week – on 462, actually,” he added, looking at Josh.

Josh nodded. “Yeah, I was going to suggest that.” He looked at Toby. “You might want to tag along on that.”

“I’m not ‘tagging along’ on anything that my deputy is running.”

Leo’s patience wore out. “Okay, that’s it. Everyone needs to shut up and let everyone else-” he held up his own styrofoam container- “eat their lunch in peace. And when did my office become a congregating point?”

Josh shifted uncomfortably. “Well,” he started, “I guess since you became all of our’s boss.”

Leo glared, but the tense moment was broken by a crude snort. Everyone looked at C.J. but as she was still hypnotized by the TV, it took her a moment to realize it. “Oh. Sorry,” she said.

“What in the name of God is it now?” asked Leo.

“Well, it’s just that Josh thought it was a slow day _here_. But the Republicans are playing _golf_.”

“No way,” said Sam.

“Yeah. Check it out.”

Everyone crowded around the TV in the corner of the room. An MSNBC logo in the corner of the screen glowed brightly. A blue banner running across the bottom proclaimed that the two men shown on screen, shaking hands sheathed in golf gloves and passing off clubs to nearby caddies, were Matthew Codner of the RNC and a Michael Handers. The headline was something about Codner. He was the new guy that everyone loved to hate. He knew all the right people, went to all the right parties – and did just the right amount of ass-kissing to get him promoted at an unheard-of speed.

“Unbelievable,” said Josh. “Here we are, working like dogs-” he caught Leo’s disapproving look and revised his statement. “Well,” he conceded, “to a point.”

Leo just shook his head. “Alright. Break’s over. Back to work.”

There were protests and groans as everyone headed towards the door. Over his shoulder Josh remarked to Leo, “You know, I could swear I’ve seen that other guy before somewhere.”

“Nope,” said Sam.

“For once, I have to agree with the eighth-grader, Josh. I don’t recognize him.”

Leo decided to give up the fight to make his communications department grow up.

\- - - - - - - - - -

The knock was timid.

“Leo?”

He looked up, startled, and pulled off his glasses as he waved her in. “What do you need?”

“It was just about the thing.”

“Which thing, C.J.? I have a million ‘things’ and they’re all-”

“The Tuesday thing.”

“Oh.” He nodded. “Right.”

“So... what are we doing about it?”

Leo shrugged and replaced his glasses, looking back down at whatever it was he had been doing. He wasn’t really sure, but he knew that it was probably somewhat important. Ah, hell. Who was he kidding? It was probably the price of the paper napkins they were ordering for the next event. Wait. He had been talking to someone. He looked up. Right, C.J. He cleared his throat. “We’re switching our date. No one will ever really know anyway.”

“Leo! Yes, they will. We’ve leaked it.”

“Well, yeah, but nobody pays attention.”

She opened her mouth to say something, but seemed thought better of it. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Yeah. It’s fine.”

“Okay then.”

She nodded, then turned and left.

\- - - - - - - - - -

“I thought I recognized that guy Handers from more than the headlines.”

Leo looked up to see Josh leaning against his doorframe. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. Or, from more than from the headlines we were seeing. I knew I’d seen him somewhere else.”

“And you’re here to gloat?”

“No.”

“So... why are you here?”

Josh walked in and collapsed into a chair on the other side of Leo’s desk. He rubbed his hand over his face. “Remember that insurance scandal a year or two back?”

Leo snorted softly. “Which one?”

“The insurance conglomerate… God, I can’t remember the name. Stilter? Stelting?”

“Stettler. I don’t remember any scandal with them.”

“Yeah. I knew it was a weird name. Anyway, the thing was going under, but then their stock prices went up and they managed to pull back together.”

“Wait. Their stock prices went _up_?”

“Yeah. As if someone had bought thousands of dollars worth of stock. And there was a whole big thing, because the CEO’s mother worked for Amelia Miller. Miller is her maiden name; she uses it for work. She’s married to the Republican Congressman from Tennessee-”

“John Codner.”

“That’s right. And John Codner is the brother of-”

Leo groaned. “Matthew Codner, who works at the RNC. Don’t tell me...”

“The CEO of Stettler was Michael Handers. Who was just playing golf with Matt Codner.”

“Handers’ mother works for Codner’s brother’s wife.”

“Yeah.”

Leo rolled his eyes. “Margaret!” She appeared almost instantly. “Get everyone in here.”

She hesitated. “ _Every_... one?”

“The senior staff, Margaret!”

“Right away,” and she disappeared before he vented any more frustration on her.

Within minutes, Toby, Sam, and C.J. had assembled in Leo’s office. “Okay,” Leo started.

_Good start,_ he congratulated himself. “So, Michael Handers played golf with Matt Codner from the RNC today.”

“Leo...?” asked Sam.

“Just wait,” he assured them. “You probably know that Handers owns an insurance conglomerate that was saved from tanking at the eleventh hour by an unknown benefactor. Sam and CJ nodded slowly.

“And...?” Toby prompted.

“It was Codner,” Josh said quietly.

“You can’t have any actual, you know, _proof_ of that,” C.J. pointed out.

“No,” said Josh. “No actual proof. But lots of... _kind of_ proof.”

“How can you have ‘kind of’ proof?” asked Sam.

“You know,” said Josh. “Circumstantial evidence.”

“What, are we on a Presidential campaign or the FBI Files?” asked Toby.

“You know that circumstantial evidence doesn’t hold up in a courtroom.” _Sam,_ Leo thought. _Ever the lawyer._

“Yeah,” said C.J., “but we wouldn’t be trying them.”

“We shouldn’t.”

“We shouldn’t what?”

“Try them.”

“We’re not _going_ to, Josh.”

“No, I meant... in the court of public opinion. We shouldn’t release it.”

“Why?” asked Sam. “What possible reason in the _world_ would we have to _not_ release it?” He paused and Leo could see the exact moment of realization. Sam answered his own question. “Because... the company would tank.”

“Yeah. Well,” sighed Leo. “It’s up to the Governor.”

\- - - - - - - - - -

“What about healthcare?”

“That’s on Friday.”

Jed nodded. “Okay. Thanks, Nancy.”

The aide nodded. “Thank you, Governor.”

Leo took that as his clue to come in, brushing past Nancy in the doorway. “Good afternoon, Jed.”

Jed turned around and smiled broadly. “Leo! What’s happening? I haven’t seen you much today.”

“I’ve been around.”

“Sure. Hey, aren’t you a half hour early?”

“Yeah. There were some extra things I wanted to ask you about before we got into this.”

“Things more important than your Daily Review?” He clutched his chest in mock horror. “By the way, I still don’t understand why we do this every night when you brief me every morning.”

“Well, it’s because-”

“The world doesn’t operate on business hours,” Jed finished with him. “I know, I know. Anyway, what was it you wanted to talk about?”

“You know the speech you’re giving on Sunday?”

“To the... insurance groups, right?”

“Yeah, that’s it. Well, Toby wants to put something in about the tax we talked about.”

“The one that we would get _from the insurance groups_ to stop big companies from going under?”

“Yeah.”

“He wants it in the speech? That’s political suicide with these people. They’ll never listen to us again.”

“No.”

“But it’s a good tax. It’ll protect normal Americans from losing everything. It’s a great tax. It’s the right thing to do.”

“Yeah.”

Jed grinned a little. “You’re into the monosyllables, aren’t you?” He wasn’t expecting a response. Leo raised an eyebrow, already see the gears in Jed’s head turning. His friend’s face took on a considering look, and then he nodded slowly. “I like it,” he said. “It’s ballsy. Very ballsy. But I like that. And it’s a good tax.”

“Yes, it is.”

“Yeah, okay. Let’s do that. Show people we’re not messing around. Was there anything else?”

“Yeah.” Leo paused. “One more thing.”

Jed waited for the rest of it, but it wasn’t forthcoming. “Leo?”

Leo let out a rush of air. “Josh came to me with this about an hour ago. Do you remember what happened with Stettler Insurance Corporation last year?”

Furrowing his brow, Jed nodded slowly again. “Yeah,” he said, drawing out the word, and pointed at Leo with his glasses. “I think I remember something about that. They were going under and then got saved.”

“Yeah. Well, the CEO at the time was a guy named Michael Handers. His mother works for the wife of a Tennessee Congressman, whose brother, Matthew Codner, works for the RNC. They played golf together today.”

“Wait. Josh thinks that Codner spent tens of thousands of dollars on stock that would most likely sink anyway, just to do a favor for his brother’s wife’s employee’s son?”

“Not just as a favor. Now he’s got the financial support of a huge insurance conglomerate – and he’s using it. The Republican candidates are going through huge amounts of money.”

“Yeah.” Jed paused. “So we should announce it, but if we do...”

Leo nodded. “Yeah.”

Jed pulled in some air between his teeth and let it out slowly. “I don’t know, Leo. This is a tough call.” He paused again. “It’s a very tough call. I don’t know,” he repeated.

Leo waited. Jed would either make a decision... or not. He knew that if they won, Jed would have to make these kinds of decisions all the time. But he also knew that now was not the time to start. It would just freak him out.

Jed nodded. “You know what? I trust you, and you’ve put together a top-notch staff. This is your choice. Talk it over with them, then make the final decision, and that’s what we’ll go with.”

Leo nodded, feeling strangely disappointed. But that was okay. Jed just needed some guidance, and he needed to settle in. He still hadn’t quite got his head around the idea that he was running for control of the country. He would get better. “Okay. Thanks, Governor. Now, let’s get into this...”

\- - - - - - - - - -

Josh found C.J. sitting in her office, staring, her gaze as blank as the wall in front of her. He knocked. “Anyone home?”

She started. “Oh. Hey. Did you need me?”

He grinned. “No, not really. I’m trying to hide from my assistant.”

C.J. snorted. “You have gone through a strange evolution today, my friend. What’s there to hide from?”

“Dinner.” He shuddered. “A _healthy_ dinner. No fries or burgers or anything. And don’t people generally eat later than 5:30?” She smiled a little, but still looked preoccupied. Josh cocked his head. “What’s up?”

“Oh, it’s-” she waved her hand in dismissal. “It’s nothing.”

“If it was nothing, you wouldn’t be sitting in your office staring at the wall. By the way, what kind of color is this? I mean, it’s not quite yellow, and it’s not really green, and it’s too light to be that ambulance color-”

“Pastel.”

“What?”

“It’s not light; it’s pastel. And Leo said the Tuesday thing didn’t matter.”

Josh paused. “But it does.”

“No, I guess he’s right-”

“No, I meant, _you_ think it does.”

She stopped for a second, hesitating, then nodded. “Yeah.”

“So tell him.”

C.J. shook her head emphatically. “No. Nope. He’s the boss, and he made a decision, so now it’s my job to-”

Josh chuckled. “Hey, this isn’t a business office. This is the big leagues. Yeah, he’s our boss. We win and he’ll be our boss for four, if not eight, years. But you know what? We’ll be the senior staff. And it’s ‘our job’ to say what we think. He wants your opinion. Do you think you’d be sitting here otherwise?”

C.J. looked away from him and waved her hand absently, but Josh could tell she had almost relented. “I told him it was fine.”

He paused, considering. “But it’s not.”

She let out a breath neither one of them had realized she’d been holding. “No,” she said, standing. “No, it’s not.”

And Josh watched her weave her way through the incredibly crowded bullpen on impossibly long legs, heading determinedly at high speed to Leo’s office.

“I need to talk to you.”

Leo looked up to see C.J. in his doorway and found himself wondering what crime _she_ had unearthed. “Yeah?”

“It’s not fine.”

Leo cocked his head, furrowed his brow, and scrunched up his nose. “What?”

“I’m going to talk about Tuesday, and you’re going to listen.” Leo opened his mouth to say something – he hadn’t thought about what – but she held up her hand to stop him. “No, don’t say anything. We can’t change our date. It’ll look like we’re unprofessional. It’ll look like we’re unprepared. It’ll look like we’re in over our heads and have no earthly idea what we’re doing.” Leo started to speak again, but she mowed right over him. “Yeah, I know. We are in over our heads and have no earthly idea what we’re doing. But it can’t look like that to the press.”

Leo knew she was right. “Okay,” he agreed.

She didn’t seem to hear. “I’m serious, Leo. We change our date and that’s going to be the story. We’re catering to the Hoynes campaign. We’re not serious and even we think he’s going to win. And suddenly we have nothing. We’ve lost any momentum we’ve built up, we have nothing going into the primaries, and the tables are turned.

“But if we stick with it, _that’s_ the story. We run our own campaign. What we’re doing on Tuesday is major – far more important than any rally. And don’t give me any crap about no press coverage, Leo. No one ‘pays attention’ because we don’t treat them like they _should_. I’ve been in this business a long time and I know how it works. We’re trusting the press to recognize that this is something real, and they will. They’re not machines. They’re people, and so they’ll cover it.”

“Okay.”

“I understand, but I just wanted to say my piece. Okay it is.” She turned to go and then stopped and turned back. “Wait. Okay?”

“Yeah.”

“Wait. You said that...?”

Leo tried very hard not to grin. “Yeah.”

“You could’ve _said_ something!” but she was smiling, too.

“And risk more of your wrath?” He decided that it was all right to let the grin out.

“Funny. And what’re _you_ laughing at?”

“Nothing.”

“Yeah, right.”

“Nothing! It’s just... you’re going to be good at this.”

The remark seemed to throw her off balance and she searched for words. Finally, she settled on, “Thank you.”

“It was well-deserved.”

“Well...” She was struggling to find something to say other than “Thank you” again, but she couldn’t. So she said that.

Leo waved her away. “Yeah, yeah. Get out.”

“Thank you, Leo.”

\- - - - - - - - - -

Toby and Josh arrived in his office at the same time. Toby sank into a chair.

“You... wanted me – us?” Josh changed words when Toby glared at him.

“Yeah. The Governor left it up to me, so I wanted your input.”

“Nice of him to pass it off.”

“Josh!”

Josh sighed and rubbed his palm over his face. “Sorry. I’m... sorry.”

“Yeah. Okay. Well...”

“We have to release it,” said Toby.

“No,” said Josh. “We don’t have to do anything.”

“Then we’re breaking the law as much as they are. And that’s stupid, because I _want_ to release this. I want to _get_ them, Josh! We can do this. It is in _no_ way bad for us.”

“But it’s bad for the people we’re trying to represent! What do we say then?”

“We say that it was the right thing to do. How often does it happen that what’s right is _also_ good for us? How often is it going to happen if we win?”

“We release this to the press and every average Joe, minimum-wage worker who’s saved up enough money to buy life insurance for his family will have to start all over! We’ll ruin lives! We’ll ruin futures!”

Toby stood up and threw his arms out to the side. “We’re not discussing that. We’re discussing releasing information that the public has a right to know! Why aren’t you considering that someone running the campaigns for who will be our next _President_ is committing a felony? No, scratch that. Does it not matter to you that _we_ – even forgetting we’re running a presidential campaign, here – would be committing a felony by not disclosing this?”

Leo finally spoke up. “Toby’s right, Josh. Right now, we have moral imperatives to take this to the media. It’s as simple as that. Justice has to be done.”

“But at what cost? Where do we stop? We’re drawing a line in the fucking sand, here! When do we say, _It’s not about justice; it’s about politics_?” Leo frowned. Something wasn’t right. Josh always thought about the political ramifications of any action. Something was different, but Josh didn’t seem to notice as he plowed on. “Who’s going to pay the father who just lost his daughter so he can move houses because he can’t stand coming home to find she isn’t there? If he has to work overtime to get the money, who’s going to take care of his son? You going to step up?”

“That’s not what we’re talking about, Josh.”

“That _is_ – what we’re _talking_ about!”

Leo shook his head. “No, Josh. It’s really not.”

Josh froze suddenly, as if held in place by weights on his shoulders. “No,” he agreed in a whisper. “No, it’s not.” And as Toby watched quietly, Josh deflated without a noise, running a hand through his hair before sinking into a chair defeatedly. And as Josh looked up at Leo, Toby quietly left the room.

He didn’t get very far.

“What is it with Josh and Leo?”

“What?”

“What is it-?”

“I heard you.”

Sam looked at him reproachfully. “So what is it?”

“You’ve known Josh for far longer.”

“He doesn’t talk.”

“He talks. He talks often. Too much, I think. He talks all the time.”

“Not about stuff like this.”

“Why are you asking me? I just met him.”

“Because you know things, even though you don’t say anything about them. You just... know them. People talk to you because you don’t talk back. You give them the silence to do what they want with.”

“You going to start writing poetry? And don’t end a sentence with a preposition.”

“So,” said Sam, “what is it?”

“It’s...” he sighed, searching for words for the first time he could remember. “I don’t have the words. Or, not that. It’s just... I don’t think there even are words for it.”

“Okay,” Sam said, accepting that, but Toby could tell he didn’t understand, because to Sam, there were words for everything – words could _do_ anything. And he wondered if they would ever understand each other, because Sam spoke with words, and Toby spoke with the spaces between.

Sam nodded, turned, walked away. Toby realized he was beginning to like him, but he didn’t know why – yet. But that was okay, he was learning. He did wonder when he would stop thinking of him as part of Josh, as Josh’s guy – wondered when he would get his own definition.

Toby hoped it wasn’t for a while. For all that he was a writer, he was beginning to see that some things shouldn’t be defined.

\- - - - - - - - - -

Josh was still there. Leo could see him working through the window of his office, the newly-installed blinds splitting the light emanating from there – the only light in the makeshift headquarters – into thin strips. That light spilled onto the floor of the main area to meet the moonlight angling in from the storefront window. It was snowing, for some reason, in March, but Josh was from Connecticut and Leo was from Chicago, and neither one of them wore sweaters even though the heat had automatically turned down two hours ago.

He sighed, rubbed his head, and shuffled forward. He knocked twice, quietly, on the doorframe and walked through, one step into the office.

“You okay?”

Josh started, jumping a little, and looked up so fast that Leo thought his neck would crack. “Yeah, of course. Why?”

Another step forward. “It might have something to do with the fact that everyone left hours and hours ago, shortly after you were screaming your lungs out and following Toby out of my office like you were being chased by a mob of angry villagers with pitchforks.” Two more steps.

That won him a tired smile. “I just needed... a minute of quiet. You know?”

“Yeah.” And then, because they were men and men didn’t talk about these things, he said, “You know,” and he took another three steps, so that he was right in front of the desk, “we have to decide. About the thing.”

Josh rubbed his face with his hand and looked up, blinking. “There’s not really very much to decide. You’re right, of course.” He sighed. “Morally, we can’t _not_ say anything.”

“You’ll take care of it?”

“Yeah. I’ll give Danny Concannon a blind quote. I don’t want... I don’t want to be part of something this bad.” His face froze. “Us. I meant, I don’t want _us_ to be connected to this. Lots of people are going to lose out because of this.”

“Yeah.”

“It’s a victory. I know it is. We’ve stopped someone from committing a crime, and plus, the Republican funding gets cut off. This is the right thing. We’re doing the right thing. I just wish it were possible to do it without screwing half the people in the country. But it’s a _win_ , Leo. It is. So why doesn’t it feel like one?”

Leo chuckled humourlessly. “I have a feeling that when we get into the White House, there are going to be a lot of those. And we’re going to have to screw a lot of people. But sometimes... you just have to swallow it. And as long as we keep doing the right thing, no one can fault us. As long as we still have morals, I think we’ll be okay.”

“Yeah.”

“It’s in the speech, Josh. He okayed that much.”

“The... taxes on the insurance companies.”

“Yeah.”

“It’s not enough.”

“No.”

“It’s not going to help _them_.”

Leo shook his head, a little. “No.”

“I’m going to fix this, Leo. I’m going to make up for this.”

“I know you will.”

“I will.”

“I believe you.” He watched as Josh’s exhausted, defeated face lit up again with passion and determination, and the next few words were lost in a haze of memory.

_The boy was almost at the other end of the room when he fell again. But before Leo could even get there, he had picked himself up and was heading for the opposite wall again._

__Tenacity, _Leo thought._ This kid’s gonna be something. __

_But the thought didn’t get any further than that, because Josh had reached the other side of the room, and Leo felt as if he had watched him grow up, just a little bit._ Noah missed it, _he thought._ How could you let yourself miss something like that? __

_Josh took the final step and leaned both chubby hands against the wall. And then he turned around, and smiled at Leo, dimpling his tiny cheeks, as if he had just conquered the world._

_And Leo thought that maybe he had. Josh’s world, for a moment, had been a trek to the other side of the room, a huge challenge, and he had beaten it. And Leo found himself smiling back._

_Then Josh smirked – he was nine months old, but Leo could swear that he smirked – and smiled proudly at Leo’s approval. And then he laughed. And Leo felt his heart melt and knew that if he could offer it to someone, he’d give it away to this kid who wasn’t even his, just to hear that laugh again._

“Alright then,” Josh said.

Leo cleared his throat. “Alright.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” As he turned to leave, though, he saw Josh’s face and it looked like there was a war going on behind it. And so his steps – there would be seven of them – were slow and careful. Waiting. He only took three.

“Hey – Leo?”

“Yeah, kid?”

A fleeting smile passed across Josh’s face at the old nickname. “It’s just... ah, never mind. It’s nothing.”

“Okay,” Leo said agreeably, because he knew Josh and he knew that this wasn’t the end. Four steps, this time, before the words spilled into the silence. He was at the door.

“I guess I’ve always had two fathers.”

“And I’ve always had two children.” The reply was even, unfazed. Immediate.

Josh looked up at Leo and then back down, and when he spoke, his voice was too soft. “After the... after – after Joanie, he was different, and, and...” Josh gave up on that part of his sentence. “I could never forgive myself for thinking you would be better than he was.”

Suddenly, Leo could barely get words out. “You didn’t have to,” and his voice cracked.

Josh paused, looked up at him. “Every time I fell, you were there. Every time. Every time, you set me back on my feet.”

“Nah. Nah.”

“Yeah.”

“The Congressional hearings and the alcoholism and... you picked me up more than I can ever thank you for.”

“No. No, Leo. It was always you.”

Leo only nodded, once, in acknowledgement of the words if not in agreement with them, because he couldn’t speak. Josh looked away, back at his work as if nothing astounding had happened, seemingly satisfied, and made a couple of marks in the margins of whatever it was he was reading. Leo nodded once, again, even though he knew the man in front of him would not see, and turned, and walked, one step, out of the office.

He closed the door behind him, softly, and smiled tremulously. His breath hitched in his throat, mourning for the people they had once been. But his soul was soaring, because his little boy had learned to walk.

_And now,_ Leo thought, _now, he’s learning to fly._

\- - - - - - - - - -


End file.
